


Blame it on Midnight

by MizGoat



Series: Like the Air You Breathe [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Filler, M/M, Mild Angst, Navel-Gazing, POV Castiel, space travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 10:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizGoat/pseuds/MizGoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel shifted uncomfortably in the close confines of the small bunk and tried not to eavesdrop on the conversation the two brothers were having in the ship’s cockpit. He wanted so very much to like the Impala, as it was very clear that Dean did, but while he could easily agree that her black and chrome hull was quite aesthetically pleasing and certainly she was quite fast for a human vessel, living inside her was slowly growing more frustrating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame it on Midnight

Castiel shifted uncomfortably in the close confines of the small bunk and tried not to eavesdrop on the conversation the two brothers were having in the ship’s cockpit. He wanted so very much to like the Impala, as it was very clear that Dean did, but while he could easily agree that her black and chrome hull was quite aesthetically pleasing and certainly she was quite fast for a human vessel, living inside her was slowly growing more frustrating.

The bunk was the first problem. Dean assured him that the Impala had been designed to accommodate four passengers, but Castiel had some serious doubts that whoever had designed the bunks had a solid understanding of how large the average human adult was. It was a wonder that Dean and Sam were able to sleep in them at all. Discounting his wings, both of the brothers were larger than he was. Perhaps the lower bunks were more spacious? They didn’t seem to be though. It was probably sufficient not to be inconvenienced with having to climb a ladder while tired. He had noticed how both top bunks had clearly been repurposed as storage areas when he had first boarded the vessel. Now there was an untidy pile of weaponry and supplies in the corner of the common area from where one of the bunks had been cleared off. And so he had been assigned to the small bunk above Dean that he had to climb and wiggle to get into when he needed to sleep.

Alone.

That was, of course, the real problem with the bunk. He still found the physical body’s need to lose all sense of its surroundings while it rested disconcerting, but he had almost grown accustomed to doing so while curled around Dean. At first he had done it simply as a way of reassuring himself that if Dean tried to leave while Castiel slept he would be unable to do so without first waking the angel. With time however he had found being able to feel the steady slow rise and fall of Dean’s chest and below that the slightly faster course of his heartbeat pleasant. The warmth of Dean’s body was soothing. His sent exciting. And when Dean thrashed and cried out in his sleep there had been pleasure in waking him from the trap his mind had set for him, even if it did mean getting throttled the first time it happened. Dean really wasn’t strong enough to hurt him. Even separated from the collective, Castiel only looked human. And the second time Castiel had been ready and Dean had looked so relieved.

The first time Dean had started to have a nightmare on board the Impala, Castiel had fallen out of bed in his groggy haste to reach the lower bunk. The resounding crash he had made upon striking the floor had woken both brothers. They had peered at him with curiosity as he lay sprawled indignantly in the passage between the bunks. 

“Dude, you ok?” Sam had finally asked.

“I’m fine,” Castiel had rumbled as he sat up and tried to get his unruly limbs back under control.

“Jeez Dean, try to keep the volume on the sex dreams down a little would you? You’re scaring the guests.”  
“Shut up,” Dean countered, throwing a pillow at his brother as he did so.

“I’m not the one waking everyone up,” Sam replied tossing the pillow back.

Castiel wondered, not for the first time, if the brother’s didn’t speak in some sort of code unintentionally developed by years of close proximity. The words were harsh, but the tone was jovial, and like much of human conversation he had managed to observe, the words were not the main focus of the communication. 

“Holy shit, he dented the floor.” Sam was looking at the ground just behind Castiel. There was indeed a small depression where his shoulder had struck the metal walkway.

“Shh, Baby, it’s ok. He didn’t mean it,” Den cooed as he reached out and stroked the floor.

“I’m fine,” Castiel grumbled again as he gingerly stood up, and flexed his wings. Sam was watching him with cautious attention. The younger Winchester brother had viewed him with a mix of distrust, curiosity, and awe since he had arrived. For his own part, Castiel was inclined to like Sam. He made Dean calm.

As Castiel climbed up the narrow ladder back to his own bunk, Dean’s eyes met his own and he had to resist the strong urge to abandon his own bunk and try and wedge himself into the narrow lower bunk next to him. But there was something in the square set of Dean’s shoulders and the tenseness of his muscles that warned him off.

Trying to simply read the situation through the connection he felt with Dean was no good either. Castiel had tried to compare the bond they shared with the bond he used to share with the collective, but the truth was that it was nothing like as strong, and Castiel couldn’t shake the worry that he would misinterpret any signal he could read from Dean. That fear was compounded by a desire not to violate any of the human’s numerous and convoluted privacy taboos.

He had already broken a rather major one on the first night they had spent together. Dean had left him alone in the small rented bedroom in order to bathe. He had sat there until the sense of being alone had overwhelmed him and in a moment of panic he had followed Dean into the bathing room. This was apparently something emphatically not done. It hadn’t ended badly, thankfully. Quite the opposite. It had led to a rather extraordinary lesson in sexual arousal and intimacy. It was wondrous how emotional need could find even temporary satisfaction in physical contact. Afterward he had found himself wondering all sorts of things about how perhaps a lack of constant collective awareness made intimate physical contact more pleasurable by contrast. At the time, he was mostly focused on how very, very nice it felt to touch Dean. It was definitely something Castiel wanted to know more about, and miraculously Dean seemed interested as well, but again, privacy taboos prevented any such interaction on board the Impala while Sam was always within close proximity. He seemed to be granted a certain amount of leeway based on his lack of familiarity with human culture, but he didn’t want to push his luck. Not when he was quite helplessly reliant on Dean’s willingness to shelter him.

His desire to remain in close physical contact with Dean was also thwarted by the fact that Dean was also quite frequently busy. The Impala took a lot more work to keep on course and running smoothly than his own ship had. And sometimes Castiel could swear that Dean went looking for work to do in order to keep himself from remaining idle too long. It was understandable. There was much Castiel was desirous not to think about at length either. 

Largely he was feeling like he was underfoot most of the time. Dean and Sam, despite their long absence from one another, clearly had a routine of work aboard the ship that they quickly fell into and there was little for Castiel to do. He found himself spending most of his time curled up in a chair in the small area designated for dining and relaxation reading the catalogue of books kept in the ship’s memory banks and sleeping. He had lost a great deal of energy in Dean’s rescue and excess sleep seemed to be helping him recover some of it. Furthermore, it kept him out of the way and made the time pass quickly.

Which is how he came to be tucked in the uncomfortable bunk trying not to overhear a conversation in another room. It had been explained to him that even if he did overhear what was said, it was impolite to act on that knowledge. Another of the myriad of rules that humans used to sanctify their separation from one another. He must have drifted off because the next thing he was aware off was Dean’s voice, this time addressing him directly.

“Planning on turning into a butterfly when you get out of that cocoon, sleepy?” Dean was standing on the edge of his own bunk, elbows resting on the edge of Castiel’s bed and his fists balled in the sheets to steady himself. Castiel pulled his head loose from the covers he had wrapped himself in with an inarticulate noise and was pleasantly surprised to feel Dean’s lips brush against his forehead. The contact was light and brief, but uniquely satisfying in it’s unprompted affection.

“Two more days, Cas, and we’ll be able to get out and stretch our legs a bit. I promise.” Castiel reveled in Dean’s use of the diminutive version his name and found himself leaning into Dean’s touch as he gave Castiel’s shoulder a light rub before hopping down and heading for the back of the ship.

The words echoed in his head. Wherever it was they were headed, Castiel was allowed to come along. That though soothed him as sleep stole over him once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Long wait and then not a lot going on in this installment. Not much plot and no porn at all. Many apologies. Mostly I wanted to give Cas's POV a test drive because I will need it later. And I was warming back up after months of no writing. Feel free to tell me if you think I suck. I had to go back and reread what I had written because I wasn't sure what I had already revealed. I feel rusty. Hopefully this shakes some kinks loose.
> 
> Title is from another Rodney Crowell song that seems to be more popular under someone else's cover, "Shame on the Moon." (I'm not a Bob Seeger fan, so it kinda caught me off guard to keep seeing him pop up when I was looking for the song)
> 
> I made a mix of my fic songs, so if you wanna here where the titles come from you can: [Listen Here](http://8tracks.com/mizgoat/fic-writing)


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